


Blind Faith

by LazySintastic13 (EmeraldWriter)



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Underfell, Blind!Sans, Fellcest - Freeform, M/M, Rating May Change, Tags May Change, Underfell Papyrus, Underfell Sans, about to be, but I did a thing, don't know where exactly I'm heading
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-04-05
Updated: 2018-10-15
Packaged: 2018-10-15 05:57:12
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 8,744
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10551232
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EmeraldWriter/pseuds/LazySintastic13
Summary: Out of everything that could've happened to him, out of all the shit he'd been through, it was plain to see that the universe said one big whooping, "Fuck you," to him.To which Sans opened his eyes … only to be met by darkness.





	1. Same Old, Same Old

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The day started like any other. Sans didn't think it would ever be different.

He woke up that morning, same old same old.

Staring at the white ceiling, then mindlessly travelling to the beige undecorated walls—same old same old. It was bland but he wasn’t complaining. A roof over the head is all the same. If he compared it to the past, he was practically living in luxury. But Sans can’t find himself too happy.

The mattress, nor hard or soft creaked against his shifting weight as he took off his purple covers. A regal colour that was fit for a king, but certainly not him, so he had blanched at it at first sight. But he had accepted that it was a necessity not to be taken for granted. After all, their world was shit, and it was a bitch to get to where they were. Bless his little brother’s soul for such an astounding amount of patience in having to deal with his poor care. But at the same time, fuck his recent attitude.

“Sans!”

 _Speak of the devil_ , he thought upon hearing the shriek, and he huffed in dismay. Though, it wasn’t if he wasn’t part of the fault. In order to survive, he had left his brother to his own many times. The latter needed to experience for himself the harshness of their world in order to survive.

If he was going to be honest with himself, it was one of the most painful things he had to do. Because he knew his limits. Because Sans knew he was weak, he wouldn’t be able to protect Papyrus for long if he continued to baby him. As much as he wanted to protect that happiness, as much as he wanted to protect those smiles of brilliance, of hope—his innocence—he simply couldn’t.

It was already suicide taking care of another monster, more so that he was just 1 HP, and always being towered over by others. If it weren’t for his street smarts and strong magic, despite not having the stamina to keep it up for so long, he wouldn’t have survived this far.

“Sans!”

The short skeleton was taken out of his musings as the stomping of hard wood got louder. A house made of wood. No matter how strong or thick, it was easy to set ablaze. It was a wonder how no one thought to burn their house down while they were away or even sleeping. Something as conniving as that wouldn’t even come as a surprise.

His door, stars blessed, was slammed opened. Sans could see the impact deepen the dent on the wall from the constant abuse of being banged. It was another wonder why the hinges hadn’t come off.

“If you’re awake, you should’ve said so.” Papyrus crossed his arms as he stood tall and proud. His annoyed expression was deeply ingrained in Sans’ memory, and he didn’t even have to see it to be able to tell the harsh crease of the brows, the condescending stare, the tightness of the jaw as red boots, Sans swore they were rain boots, tapped the floor impatiently, and shoulders stayed tense—always on guard … Even at his own home.

What a ‘loving’ relationship they got. Sans rolled his eye lights “Whatever.” And proceeded to get out of the bed; painstakingly and excruciatingly slow. Slow for his brother at least, and normal speed for him.

“Ugh, you’re so insufferable.”

_Excuse you._

“If you’re not ready in 10 minutes, I’m leaving you’re sorry ass to get dusted.” Papyrus turned and strode away with purpose. The busybody that he grew up to be, he had become so impatient now.

The short skeleton sighed before grumbling to himself how the latter was forgetting that it was _he_ who was the older of the two. But again, he couldn’t really fault his brother. After all, he did raise him that way … in a sense. Stars, he hated the influence of that fish fuckface did to his innocent brother.

Sans walked over to his shoes, one upturned and the other to its side beside his drawers. It was an absolute miracle he managed to find these babies his size and in pretty good condition. However, they weren’t exactly too good with being wet, and it showed from the dirtiness that no good amount of scrubbing will be able to fix; a brilliant red now dull and maroon. Oh how the years went.

Still, while it provided little warmth, he was a sentimental fool. And Papyrus was another proof of that. He picked up a clean pair of socks found in the third drawer of the mahogany dresser. There was at least some semblance of order in his room, despite the self-sustaining tornado where his other socks flew around freely. And he wasn’t stupid to not wear one when his shoes can barely protect him from the cold. Fucking snow.

A few stretches here and there to crack some bones, feeling rusty from the sleep, and he was good to go once he grabbed his black fur-hooded jacket and put it on. He didn’t need to change; a plain white shirt and black shorts suffice. And for all his bitching about the cold, he had tried hunting the dump for pants than wearing shorts all the damn time. But no such luck.

Somehow, his brother had all of that it seems, procuring pants out of thin air for only his size to matter. Cocky bastard.

Sans huffed once more, he had dallied enough, and was sure that his brother had no doubt left him already. So he ported straight to his station instead—same old, same old.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Red will eventually be blind soon. :D   
> I want it.   
> I need it. 0-0)


	2. Unseen Trouble

Sans sat on a stool behind the poorly structured sentry. Seriously, the sign was barely visible, used to be ‘SENTRY’ and now all you could see, if you _squint_ , were ‘SENY’. Yup, that’s his new name now. Who is Sans? Don’t know that guy. He was just Seny guarding the station. And fuck you too.

Red eye lights looked down at the damaged wood and traced along the cracks. Molds formed at the edge of wood as well as dark patches of indents as if they’ve been burned, but the pyro merely did it out of boredom for it was not thorough, to show decay. Age had been unkind to it. And yet, it still stood. Looks like the saying were true. You do become more stubborn with age. Sans smirked at the thought.

“Well, well, if it isn’t my _favourite_ skeleton.” The newcomer walked towards Sans’ station with a grin that showed obvious falseness.

There goes his peace. Sans sported a bored look at the canine, resting his chin on a fist that was supported by his elbow. His free arm simply rested on wood as he watched the latter near. Unlike the dog couple and Doggo, this fucker had done nothing more than become an annoying little shit to him.

“What do you want, asshat?” He took pleasure in seeing the ‘happy’ expression falter, knowing full well how much the latter hated being called names. He can’t wait for it to morph into vexation. The short skeleton was itching for a fight to relieve his boredom.

“Is it so bad to come and see my friend?”

“Friends, grow up. Like I’d be friends with a _mutt_.” Sans saw the twitch and he only needed one more push. His magic was ready, as phalanges tapped the board with relaxed anticipation.

“There’s no need to be like this, Sans. And you seem to forget your place. I’m higher rank than you.”

“But you’re just the same as any monster. You dust when you die. Turn to gold if you want to prove me wrong, since you’re just so _special_.” And he saw the other bristle, white sharp teeth showing more clearly as the latter growled in warning. The canine’s eyes were ready for murder.

But then, when Sans expected the dog to lunge at him, he didn’t react fast enough to the sudden presence behind him; excruciating pain hit his being and he crouched to the ground. His HP no doubt dropped by four tenths as something that hard and solid whacked into his skull. He could hear and _feel_ the crack of the impact. His eyes blurred, and he had to shut them tight, seeing too many of the same things which was disorienting.

He barely held on to his conscious as it would not be wise to black out now. Not when he was ambushed. Sans didn’t scream, though. He was not about to give the fuckers the pleasure of seeing the damage done to him. So he gritted his teeth tight to suck it up.

He could hear them laugh loudly—smug and mocking.

“That’s what you get, Sans. Like I’ve said before, you’ve forgotten your place. And for your misconduct,” the snow crunched with each step, and Sans began to sweat, trying to orient himself back. “Let’s see if _you_ dust or turn to _gold_.”

Sans’ soul pounded hard against his rib cage as he sweated profusely. For all his talk and making death seem as if he was talking about the weather, he was downright scared of it. Just the idea of fading away, of taking one last breath, of slowly disintegrating to dust—to nothing—it was terrifying. But he had to get a hold of himself, or else he was truly going to be a goner.

 _Damnit! Why can’t I see?!_ Every time he tried to pour magic to his eye lights, he was met with searing pain that he had stop and chalk it up as his magic being unstable due to his inner turmoil.

“Bye bye forever, Sans. _You won’t be missed_.”

And before Sans thought about anything, he gasped for breath, and teleported.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Watcha think? :D 
> 
> Everything will serve their purpose. :D


	3. Darkness Lies Ahead

The short skeleton landed on his bed, thankfully; his body lightly bounced on it. If he were met with the hard flooring, he was done for.

So he took his time, now in the safety of his home, to _breathe_. It was a close call, and he barely grazed the bullet on that one. He’d have to tell his brother about it, being the Second-in-Command of the Royal Guards, because there was no way Undyne nor his brother was going to allow the abuse of power, much to most monsters’ surprise.

When one becomes a guard, fights are allowed to be instigated, but outright dusting one went against the law. After all, they were trying to survive and escape the damn hellhole, not become extinct before they managed to get to the surface. Though, while it is _possible_ to be treated as mere ‘accidents’, it was more than likely a tall tale for monsters will always be able to have a slither of HP left as their ‘Last Chance’ in order to live. It is that very indication that the battle has ended, and both monsters live to tell the tale of either glory or loss. And that is why his brother and Undyne will not tolerate the dusting of monsters.

Sans groaned in pain, and allowed his magic to cover him in the attempt to heal the wound. However large the crack was, he didn’t want to know, and focused on taking it easy. His soul was still beating too fast for his liking, and he made the effort, with some struggle, to remove his jacket; too warm for comfort as he had sweated an ample amount from the adrenaline and stress.

Deep breaths, he told himself. Slow breaths to ease his beating soul. And Sans did this routinely whenever he felt himself about to go into a panic attack. Being a 1 HP monster was no joke, even though he had been the butt of most, and surviving for this long had done nothing but remind him how weak he truly was; how easy it was for him to become dust.

He shuddered at the foreboding thought, fighting to mentally clear his mind and relax.

The short skeleton stopped his magic when he felt that he was fully recovered, and just to make sure, he stroke the back of his skull. There was just a smooth surface that met his hand, and he sighed in relief.

Then, Sans opened his eyes … only to be met by darkness.

_What?_

Was his room that dark? Has night come whilst he had been healing?

But … there was something wrong.

Sans blinked, and blinked again.

Why couldn’t he at least see some semblance of shapes in his room? Why was there _nothing_?!

The short skeleton clutched to his chest as he curled himself on the bed. He shut his eyes, feeling his hand tremble slightly as his breathing became uneven. Now that his magic was stable, Sans tried to use it to filter his eye lights, but he ended up hissing in pain attempting so. And he opened them, to be greeted with nothing. “N-No. No way.”

He tried again and again, over and over. Pain be  _damned_.

But there was only darkness.

“No … No, no, no, _nonononono_. This can’t be happening. It’s not happening. It’s just dark,” his laugh, uneasy and quivering did not help even in convincing himself.

“I’m not b-blind.” The words pierced his soul and he could hear the rattling of his bones. “I _can’t_ be blind.”

Being blind was practically a death sentence. A liability if anyone saw it. Short, physically weak, standing on a mere 1 HP, and now _blind?!_ Out of everything the universe threw at him, out of all the shit he had to tolerate and bear, they decided to make him _blind?!_

Sans realized that he wasn’t getting any air as he was suddenly choking to keep breathing. He gasped hard to keep living, and he laughed to no one in particular when his body decided to kill itself due to a panic attack. And he continued his muffled laughter as warm wetness began to trickle out of his empty sockets.

It was hysterical that this was going to be the way he goes. Stars, he was so weak, and the universe won’t ever let him forget that.

Sans stopped abruptly when he heard the slam of the door outside and the shriek of his name. In response, he covered himself with the blanket and gripped tightly onto the sheets. He was not mentally prepared to face Papyrus. And he didn’t want the latter to see him weaker and more useless than before.

But the hard stomping of the wood neared, and his door slammed open. Confrontation was inevitable.

“Sans! I can’t believe you ditched your station to sleep!”

Sans curled further in to muffle, if not block out, the noise coming from Papyrus. It was too soon. And even he himself had not fully accepted the horrible truth of his sudden blindness.

The short skeleton closed his eyes, not as if it made a difference, and newfound tears began to pour out from them.

 _Why is this happening, why is this happening. Why me, why me, why me._ The words continued to taunt him in his head. Pressure building up and he didn’t know how to handle anything anymore. He was suffocating again.  

There was a strong pull of the sheets that he was too weak to hold onto, and he can vaguely hear the sound of his brother’s voice. It sounded panicked and worried, but he couldn’t really tell; his consciousness was fading out.

Only when he felt hands on his shoulders pulling him upright to shake him from his nightmare, did Sans opened his eyes.

And he sobbed harder because he did not see his brother’s face.

The nightmare was real, and he despaired.


	4. Strange Feeling

* * *

“Sans! _Sans!_ ” Arms wrapped around him and Sans whimpered at the unfamiliarity of the unknown. “I’m here, Sans. It’s just a dream.”

Papyrus tried to reassure him, but the short skeleton did not have it in him to tell the latter that it wasn’t just a dream. It was real. _His nightmare was real._

He wanted to scream that no matter how many times his brother said he was there, not seeing him was terrifying. Still, he didn’t want to bring about suspicion. It was the last thing he wanted. Though he did not know where to latch on, he traced his hands along the other’s arms and held onto what he can only assume were the humerus bones.

He spoke, broken and desperate, “P-Papyrus?”

“Yes, brother. I’m here. It’s okay now.”

 _No it wasn’t_. Sans buried his face against his brother’s armor, cold and hard against his skull, offering no comfort. He closed his eyes; his body lessening in their tremors as he allowed Papyrus to try and soothe his shot nerves.

Moments of quietness descended into the room, and Sans was too tried to care even if it unnerved him. He didn’t want darkness along with silence, but if he tried to speak, the skeleton might go into another sobbing fit. And he rather not ruin the rare moment, being in the care of his little brother trying to cheer him up.

“Stars, Sans.”

Yes, _bless_ the noise.

“I’ve never seen you go into such an intense reaction from any of your nightmares before.” The short skeleton stayed quiet. “… Do you … want to talk about it?”

It was good to be reminded that their relationship, though not perfect, wasn’t all just banters and hateful spats. But Sans sighed; eyes still closed. “Not now?” His voice was just as shot as his nerves were, coming out croaky and quiet.

“… Okay.” And Sans almost berated himself for allowing the silence to consume the room all over again.

So Sans tried to lighten the mood, not wanting to think about his … _temporary_ predicament. Yes. It was _temporary_ … That’s right. “How was your d-day?”

His brother was thankfully on board with the change of topic, and had begun spouting about Undyne, of his patrols, and of his traps. Unfortunately, it also led to the tall skeleton asking about why he had left his post. And Sans remembered about the mutt … and his ambush …

Now he wasn’t so certain if he should tell Papyrus about it … but if he didn't, the skeleton might not be able to handle another attack.

With a reluctant sigh, soul beginning to thump fast again, he started. “D-Do you know Murner?” his quiet voice sounded loud.

“One of the lieutenants?”

“Yeah.” Sans felt the other tense at the confirmation, as if the latter already knew what he was about to say. “He … ambushed me with another monster. I didn’t get a look at the one that sneaked behind me … Ported out of there when it was obvious I was on the losing side.”

Arms tightened around him, but his wince loosened the hold. “Are you—”

“I’m fine!” His sudden exclaim scared him, and no doubt his brother as well. Sans coughed, “… I’m fine. Healed myself to full health.”

“You were close to _dusting?_ ”

 _Shit._ By the stress of the word, Papyrus was becoming livid, and Sans wasn’t sure how to proceed. So he tentatively gave a hesitant nod, not quite knowing what else he should be doing.

“… Undyne and I will take care of it. You’ll also be temporary relieved of your duty until the threat to your safety has been taken care of.” The tone was commanding, and the short skeleton felt proud at how independent Papyrus was—born a true leader through and through.

And even though Sans knew it was out of duty, he was still grateful regardless. “Thanks, Paps.” A nickname he rarely got to call the other, but felt that it was okay for this moment.

Sudden tiredness seeped into his bones, lulling him to a deep sleep, and he tried his best to stay conscious.

“Sleep, brother. I’ll be right here with you.”

 _Heh_. His little brother was being so sweet. He felt himself being laid down onto the bed, and the latter maneuvered their bodies around so that Papyrus covered over Sans. The sudden show of affection, while not unwelcomed was certainly strange. And all this time, he never opened his eyes, even as he moved his head up in question. “Bro?”

The show of affection made him feel warm and weird, more so when he felt a hard surface, hearing a ‘clack’, to his forehead. _R-really, Paps? A kiss to the forehead? Geez_.

“Sleep. Now.” The short skeleton snuggled close as his blanket was promptly draped over their bodies.

“Heh. You’re the Boss.” And a different, much kinder type of darkness consumed him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A bit of fluff? heh. :)


	5. Despondent Truth

When he woke, he expected to be wrapped with warmth, of bones around him and a hard chest he can nuzzle to—a body. But reality hit him hard and instead, there were only the thin covers that provided no comfort as he tapped the space in front of him. He was met with nothing. No body. _No Papyrus_.

Sans woke up alone on the bed, alone in his room, and still he could see  _nothing_.

“D-Don’t panic,” he told himself. His own voice now felt strange to hear and he opted to feeling around the mattress for some semblance of direction as to where he could be. He would need to heavily rely on his memories if he were to get by for the time being. This was only temporary after all.

Sans felt a smooth surface different from his mattress, and the crinkling noise suggested it was paper; a piece of paper. It could only mean that Papyrus left the house, and Sans didn’t know whether to relax that he was alone, or worry because he  _was_  alone.

No doubt; however, that an explanation to his temporary injury would be due to happen when his brother came home, and Sans wasn’t sure if he’ll ever be prepared to say the news. He hoped to hide it for as long as he could if he were to be honest with himself.

A tired sigh escaped him just as he sat upright, feeling the covers slide down off of him. He couldn’t help grip at them as if a safety line. To his sanity probably, he didn’t know. But it made him relatively safe enough. A small lucky break to his plethora of stressful events if anything.

It also seemed that Papyrus had changed him whilst in his sleep for now that he paid attention to what he was wearing, he didn’t feel the heavy weight of coat. Instead, warm soft fabric hugged his bones, and he made a guess that he was dressed in his old pajamas; a purple long sleeve shirt and pants with stripes. It was his only set of appropriate sleep wear that he didn’t wear as much being that it was a hassle to change so often into the set. No doubt his brother made sure to find its match than allow Sans to dress in a random shirt and bottoms. It was just not something the great and terrible Papyrus would do.

His parched throat suddenly called to be quenched with the neediness of a child wanting a toy. And Sans, like an annoyance of a parent, gave in to the request if only to shut them up. But … how?

Teleporting was out of the question. He had been lucky before, landing on his bed, but with his sense of direction … distorted in some sense, he couldn’t risk it. Sans will have to do it the old fashioned way; walking down the stairs.

He could feel himself sweating at the idea. It was a risky thing, but his stubbornness and pride won’t let him back down from the challenge. At least he and his brother had that in common, however minimal it may be in Sans’ system.

He slid his hand further to a side to find the edge of the bed. Once he found it, his legs followed to push themselves forward, then his other hand did the same as the previous. He did this slowly, and he felt ridiculous at the same time at how cautious he was being. He was just in his own room. What was there to be scared about?

But he was.

He was _terrified_.

His room never felt so unsafe, and it made him insecure.

Nevertheless, his bare feet touched the wooden floors, and were startled by the small creak it made. Were his floors that noisy? Then again, it would probably be something he never cared to make note of. He’d live in the house for so long, it was such a minor thing …

The skeleton used his bed as a support to stand up and navigate around it until he hit the wall. Sans supposed he considered himself lucky once more that his bed was against the wall. The door shouldn’t be far off if he kept at it.

So he moved along the wall, until he felt his fingertips bump into something hard. He cheered inwardly from finally finding the door frame, and traced along the rough surface of the wood. There were some small dents he never realized it had, and felt a smoother surface shortly after a dip in height. As far as Sans recalled, his door was simple; no designs were carved on it. No posters, no nothing. And he patted southward to find the knob.

The familiar sound of rickety clinks brought a smile to his face, and his hand completely covered the cold metal. The knob was not as securely tight as it once before. Papyrus would be the one to blame by how harsh he treats it. And to be honest, Sans liked how the little noise distracted him even for just a bit.

Despite the constant slamming treatment, no creaks were made as he turned the knob and pulled the door inward. The swinging motion was smooth, and that could explain how his brother was able to slam his door so easily. Not much strength was actually required for him to do the same as well.

To Sans’ dismay, he needed to follow along the door’s motion and did the same method of hugging against its frame to move along to the corridor’s walls. It was such a tedious process, but he’d come too far to start backing out. He was going to get his damn drink.

He treaded along carefully, trying to recall the structure of their house. Sans would be passing his brother’s room before he reached the staircase. On the other hand, he could use the railing from across the wall, but the possibility of him getting into an accident of falling from the second floor felt higher. He didn’t know exactly how sturdy they were, not like he needed their support in the first place, and not anytime soon it would seem.

Steady as he went with his pace as well as his breathing, he heard nothing than the meeting of bones on wooden floors. Hopefully he wouldn’t get splinters. That’d just be the cherry on top of fuck you’s given to him and on top of everything else he had to deal with.

Thankfully, he didn’t come across any problems as he reached the dead-end of the hallway. The staircase was no doubt right in front of him just as he turned himself to face right, hands still against the wall. Knowing this, Sans lowered himself to the floor, and extended his leg to gauge the distance left. He moved along like this, probably looking stupid with his foot tapping around, but Sans couldn’t care less at the moment. He was alone anyway.

He was startled when his foot met with nothing but air for a moment, only to swallow the fact that he found the start of the staircase. Sweat began to bead on his forehead as he was faced with the most difficult task. He almost wanted to laugh because going down the stairs shouldn’t be hard at all.

The short skeleton tried to recall the number of steps needed, and one would think that he would at some point. He tended to remember a lot of useless small things here and there, so why shouldn’t the number of steps on their staircase be there, right?

It wasn’t.

Sans really wanted to laugh then. He was already failing in remembering such a tiny thing, and he was supposed to be relying on it and not just his senses.

Nevertheless, Sans wasn’t that much of a coward to toss caution in the wind. So, slowly mind you, his foot hit a flat surface, and his body moved to sit on the step before it. He set a rhythm of having his foot hit the step in front before moving into a sitting position on the previous step.  

He kept this up, resting from time to time not because he was tired or anything, but more of his fear in fucking up. He certainly didn’t want his brother to come home and find dust on the staircase. Plus dying from it was just so fucking lame that Sans refused to die that way; lazy as he may be, he deserved a better way to die than some fall from _stairs_.

He was gaining more confidence the more he continued his way down, and the short skeleton was becoming more relaxed and proud of himself for the fast adjustment. Though, he should’ve known better.

Just as he took another step, the wood beneath broke under the pressure and his foot sank down in its hollow structure. Sans screamed in pain from the gashes that no doubt made their marks on his fibula and tibia, and louder when he heard a deafening _crack_.

Immeasurable agony shot his being, and his body lurched forward from the force. Arms moved to shield his face instinctively, and Sans was sure that he was falling.

It was truly ironic how he might actually die from the very thing he had called lame. And maybe, by some sick twisted fate, it was on the level he deserved. A weak monster dying in such a poor way; it almost seemed so fitting for him.

The skeleton hit the floor, another crack as he had landed on his sides, and bounced and rolled a bit from the momentum before stopping completely.

Tears had erupted in his eye sockets long before he realized they were falling. Maybe he was bleeding, Sans didn’t know. Only pain continued to wrack his head, and it was making him unable to think straight.

He sobbed, hoping it would ebb away to a tolerable ache, but it didn’t. The damage was so great that he couldn’t even utter a cuss or even think of it. And his sobs continued to echo into the quiet house.

The door opened with hard slam that didn’t even startle Sans, but was more than thankful for the distraction.

“What the— _Sans!_ ”

Papyrus was home.

Sans’ crying slowly quieted as his brother dashed to his side. The skeleton felt his back lifted so that he sat upright supported by his brother’s arm.

“Sans, _your foot!_ What the fuck happened?”

Warmth began to surround his being, and Sans sighed in relief that he could no longer feel the pain as much. His brother had gotten better at healing magic—a godsend.

“F-Fell.” He managed to say, and the hoarseness of his voice reminded him of his main purpose; he still needed to drink some water.

“You _fell?_ ”

Sans didn’t bother trying to guess what his brother was doing, and he shut his eyes for weariness began to hit him.

It was quiet though. And that in itself bothered him enough to not let himself be dragged away to unconsciousness just yet.

Where was the plethora of questions? Of the swears and comments of his incompetence? Of his stupidity and clumsiness? Of—

_Why was Papyrus not saying anything?_

Sans found himself sweating nervously and his soul began to thump dangerously fast when his jaw was gripped tight to be tilted upward.

“Open your eyes.”

His body tensed, and he almost wanted to disobey the order. But he was probably a secret masochistic fuck because he did it anyway.

He saw darkness, and Sans felt a little bit of himself break.

He couldn’t run away forever … His brother was also bound to find out one way or another.

And yet, the words he heard next made him want to shrink away—he didn’t want to confront it.

He wasn’t re—

“Show me your eye lights, Sans.”

_… Fuck my life._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You can’t run away from the truth Sans! >:D 
> 
> Yay! An update! \\( ﾟヮﾟ)/ God bless!!
> 
> Poor Sans. :’) No hugs for you. So much pain.
> 
> \---  
> Update: Currently at midterms so unfortunately there will be no updates until next weekend or the week after.
> 
> So sorry for not making a notice. But I've been working on other stories at tumblr in the time of my absence for this story. So I can see the neglect on my part.
> 
> Nonetheless, I hope to get back to it as soon as possible after my midterms. m(__ __)m Thank you for the support and interest in reading this fic! I swear I have the draft for the next chapter, but I don't want to post it cuz I feel it's mediocre.
> 
> I'm sorry for the waiting period. ^~^) pls bear with me.


	6. Rueful Admittance

“P-Paps. It’s—”

 _“_ You can’t … can’t you _.”_

Sans’ bones rattled at the statement and his soul dropped. How did Papyrus already know? His chest heaved unevenly, quickly, and more sweat beaded from his skull.

As if able to read his erratic mind, Papyrus spoke the facts. “The mere fact that you fell, that you even bothered to use the stairs than teleport was already a dead giveaway.”

Sans whimpered when the grip on his jaw tightened. Fuck. He really couldn’t hide it. He knew that. But can you blame him for still wanting to try? He was already …

“Not only that. But if you were able to  _see_. You would know of the crack on one of the steps.”

Oh. Leave it to his brother to piece everything together.

He was ready to hear more reprimands and callouts, but was rendered unprepared instead.

“Sans.” The tone was gentler, and Sans felt Papyrus move his hand to cup his cheek. The pain on his chin lessened to a small sting; as if putting a reminder that his sense of feeling wasn’t lost.

At the tenderness of the action, Sans couldn’t stop the tears from cropping up in his eye sockets.

“… I … c-can’t.” It came out as a whisper; weak and desperate. “I  _can’t.”_  He repeated, harsher.

It was probably the hardest thing he had to say in his entire life. And stars did he wanted it to be a lie. A goddamn dream. The nightmares were blessings in comparison.

“I c-can’t do it.” Sans attempted pour his magic in, but the sting just made him cry harder.

He clung weakly to Papyrus as the latter held him close, the warmth of his brother’s magic helped in easing his rattled nerves; enveloping him once more, to comfort him, to heal his body, and possibly heal his withering soul.

Taken into strong capable arms, Sans was gingerly lifted, cradled like the scared child he felt. Upright, there was a squeak that creaked under his weight as he was deposited on the couch like royalty; carefully, slowly—the fragile being that he was now. He didn’t deserve such care and attention. He was anything but.

“Sans … brother.” Papyrus called gently as he enveloped Sans’ quivering hands into his steady ones. His own soul twisted at the sight. If only …

“… I need to get a towelette and clean you up. Your … current state is quite bloody at a certain area.”

Sans knew he was talking about his foot. He did hear a crack at some point. The cause of his demise to his fall. The thought wasn’t far off from the truth.

He wanted to laugh again,  _blindly,_  maniacally—to go as mad as he felt.

Being destitute of vision wasn’t enough huh. It would just be a cherry on top to be crippled too. If so, he might as well have dusted then.

Papyrus’ reassurance had Sans croak out, “J-Just …” He couldn’t say stay here, or else nothing would get done. So he muttered instead. “… Keep talking to me, o-okay?”

“Of course.” The taps on the floor were light, almost silent, barely allowing any creak. Sans preferred the obnoxiously loud stomps than this. And his hands already felt cold, missing his brother’s comfort over them.

“I’ll be heading to the kitchen to get the bandages.” As if realizing that his footing was too quiet, Papyrus put more weight into his steps. It forced Sans to take deep breaths to calm himself. It was better than before now that Papyrus was here; he wasn’t alone.

Papyrus continued to talk as promised whilst he went to get his brother’s foot that had been dislocated from Sans. It rested on the broken stair, the very reason how Sans managed to fling himself and  _fall_.

Papyrus even mentioned about what they were going to have for dinner, making comments here and there about their interiors, needing replacements or fixing up. Not only to make noise, but to help Sans visualize it. His brother would need it.

Once he got the kit, Papyrus made his back to Sans, keeping an even pace as to not startle his brother with the loud thumps of his boots.

“I’m in front of you now Sans. And you can hold onto me while I get your foot fixed up.” Papyrus placed the water-filled basin on the floor, the towelette hanging at the rim before he took Sans’ hand and guided it to his shoulder. “You’re doing really good, brother. How are you feeling?”

“Like shit … but better.” Sans grumbled, which only made the latter smile wryly in return. Not that his brother could see it anyway.

As Papyrus focused on tending to the injury, Sans decided that it was about time he stopped running away, and face his fate completely.

And the truth was, Papyrus shouldn’t bother with him anymore.

Let’s face it; he was a liability through and through.

Weak, 1 HP, easily exhausted, lousy, and now  _blind; possibly crippled too_. There was just no use trying to save a lost cause. And Sans would rather not put any more problems for his brother to deal with. Already a useless one … becoming even more worthless. A rock had even more use and worth than him.

So after a deep breath, he started. “Paps,”

“Yes?”

“You should just dust me.”

The steady and solemn tone had Papyrus’ hands stilled in the midst of his wrapping.

“You know that I’m nothing more than a complete liability at this point. It would be better if—

_“No.”_

Sans jumped when he heard the low threatening rumble of the throat. It quickened the pace of his heart in turn out of fear.

Quickly noticing this, Papyrus tried again in a softer tone, collecting himself. With Sans much more … fragile than before, he cannot afford to be harsh. “You’re my brother.”

“I’m just a failure.”

“We’re  _family.”_

“And I don’t want to drag you down any further than I already have.” Sans sighed. “Look, Paps—”

“Shut up. This is not up for debate.”

Sans was pulled into a tight embrace. The body enveloping him was strangely warm. It made him want to cling onto it forever, this care that he was so deprived of, given to him now; it tasted bittersweet.  

“I’m not abandoning you.  _Never.”_  Sans had never left when it came to raising him, no matter how bad it got. There was no way Papyrus would betray Sans like that. He was … Sans was the only one that made living in such a world worth it. If he was gone …

Papyrus tightened his hold, making Sans inwardly wince. But the short skeleton got the message.

“… You’re only going to make life harder for yourself.” He was both touched and distressed at the thought, but Papyrus scoffed.

“As if I’d back away from a challenge.”

Sans had to let out a drawn out sigh, allowing himself to go soft and let his brother support his weight. The heavy burden he had become, now rested on his brother’s shoulders.  _Once more._ Can’t he do anything right?

“’M sorry, Paps.” He felt the hold on him become tighter. Any stronger and his bones would crack from the pressure. The power over him, of how easily he could be killed, even by his own brother made Sans close his eyes. He wished the latter did it to save him the trouble. He wasn’t worth the effort.

“’M really sorry.”

Life wasn’t about to get any easier for the both of them. And they knew it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So the truth has come out. Wonder what’s gonna happen from here on out? :)
> 
> Omg an update! Gasp! It’s been a year. I think. Kill me. XD


	7. Closing Wounds

The bandaging on his leg was over with Papyrus having taken off his gloves in order to perform proper healing. His foot was re-attached, but Sans would need a little bit of time to completely control and use it like normal. He didn’t know whether to be relieved or not that he wasn’t going to be crippled, just blind.

How he wished his blindness was as temporary as his foot.

Just as he felt Papyrus’ hand retreat, with speed he didn’t know he had. Sans grabbed for his brother’s wrist. It startled Papyrus, looking up to Sans in surprise and with question. “Y-Yes, brother?”

Sans couldn’t help the smile that made its way to his face at the stutter. And tall skeleton didn’t mind his own blunder if it calmed his brother.

“There’s … Would you mind wrapping bandages around my eyes? Like a blindfold.”

Papyrus blinked, for once, he was unable to piece out the reasoning to this. “Why? And if you want a blindfold, surely we can finding something more suitable than bandages.”

Sans slowly lossened his grip, his hand trailing his brother’s metacarpals. It was both rough from the little grooves that he could never see, but there was still smoothness that he appreciated. It contrasted with his own, comprising with only smooth. It told the lack of physical combat, else it would be just as rough.

Once he laid his hand on Papyrus’ palm, Sans revelled on how small his own was in comparison. Engulfed so easily like before. His smile widened when Papyrus did just that; keeping his hand warm—protected. It eased his mind and soul immensely.

Papyrus wanted to keep that smile a permanent fixture on Sans’ face. He at least hoped … he could see it often.

“I … won’t need my eyes anymore.” Sans’ soul warmed when he felt the grip tighten a little. It encouraged him to close his eyes. Forever. “Figured I might as well not bother keeping my sockets open if they were going to be empty. I don’t want anything fancy. So bandages will do … Can you do it for me, Paps?”

He said it so calmly, so accepting of his fate that Papyrus hesitated.

He didn’t know what the right answer would be, what he could say otherwise. This level of maturity from Sans reminded Papyrus how he was his big brother.

“Yes.” Because it was better than hearing Sans wanting to dust him. Even if he couldn’t tell what his brother was thinking, Papyrus accepted to the request. It was the least he could do. He can’t even imagine what it was like to lose your vision. What Sans felt when he realized it. How hard he was dealing with it enough that he wanted to dust initially. And for _his_ sake.

Papyrus didn’t want to remove his hand from Sans, but he needed both to do the deed. It was with great reluctance that he did so, and took the bandage roll from the kit.

He stood up and asked for Sans to lean forward. “I’m … going to start now, Sans. Let me know if it gets uncomfortable.” He started wrapping around Sans’ eyes when he saw the nod.

Papyrus took great care to make sure it wasn’t loose, but not too tight either. Sans said nothing throughout the whole thing, and he could only trust in that silence that he was doing it just fine. Even though he felt he wasn’t.

It was a little uncomfortable seeing, heh, that Sans wasn’t used to the treatment, of having something wrapping around his head. But Papyrus was being so careful that he didn’t want to complain. Just a little adjusting was required to get used to it. He could handle that much.

When Papyrus said he was finished, Sans felt the material on his face. He could tell which layer were on top of the other through the bumps from the widths of the bandages. He could imagine a ‘mummy’ he’d seen in human books once. And he could really become one if he was completely wrapped instead of just his eyes. The thought amused him a little.

“Thanks, Paps … It’s perfect.”

Relief seeped into Papyrus’ bones when he heard it. He was truly glad to know he did a decent job.

“I will just be cleaning up, brother. And then we will … talk.”

Papyrus quickly got all the things cleared up when he heard the low hum. It made his soul thump loudly in his chest, made it beat fast. _Sweat_ beaded down his skull as the anxiousness in him rose two-fold. It was such a simple answer; short and low, almost inaudible. And yet, it spoke volumes—screaming at him.

Uncertainty filled his core, because Sans was too calm—too quiet. He really didn’t know what his brother was thinking or plan to do, and it _terrified_ him. There were no sarcasms, no jokes. It was as if he’d ... _given up_ —

Papyrus shook that thought away immediately. No. He _believed_ in Sans. His soul constricted, feeling as if he had just lied to himself. But it was the only thing he could do.

Papyrus’ frame was trembling by the time he finished. The tears cropping in his sockets before he realized how tight his chest was. Things around him blurred, and he felt like crumbling down—

“Paps?”

Sans’ voice took him out of his stupor. Papyrus swallowed to respond, and he gave a shaky one. “Y-Yes?”

Sans was surprised. He could tell. Just from Papyrus’ voice, it was as if he gained a fifth sense and could detect the _raw_ emotion in it. He didn’t need to see to _know_ that his brother was shaking, crying—close to breaking down himself. He did not; however, know _why_.

Sans lifted his hand, searchingly, and Papyrus reacted fast. He dropped to kneel in front of his brother, taking that hand into his quaking one. It was a lifeline he needed.

“Papyrus … come here.” Sans used other arm to gauge where Papyrus was at. The tall skeleton forward so that his brother wouldn’t be troubled. Sans’ hand touched the back of Papyrus’ head, and from there, begun to slowly encircle his brother with his arm to pull him close; keeping his hand on the back of Papyrus’ skull.

Sans pulled his brother in until he had Papyrus’ face on the crook of his neck and shoulder; the latter had to bend his back a little for it.

It reminded Sans how Papyrus was his little brother. This rare instance of vulnerability—fragility. He was … really making a stupid choice by wanting to dust himself. They only had each other to rely on. And here he had been, thinking about leaving his precious little brother alone. He was selfish, Sans admitted. But can you blame him for wanting an easier life for his brother?

“I’m not leaving you.”

The assurance and steady voice had Papyrus break into a sob. The tall skeleton used his free arm to wrap around the lower back of his brother.

“I will … have to trouble you again. But that’s what older brothers do, right? Make trouble for their little bros?”

Papyrus let out a watery smile. “I-It’s the o-other way around … N-Nyehehe.”

The soft shaky laugh he managed to get Papyrus to make made Sans’ heart feel full and content. He missed this—this closeness. The cynical part of him wanted to laugh that it took being blind to realize that they could’ve just talked it out instead of keeping it in. But they never settled, never confronted. The lack of communication didn’t sever their relationship, though there was evident distance Sans wanted to close. But he was a coward, and Papyrus was lost.

“... I’m sorry about before. Asking you to dust me.” Sans noted the jolt with a heavy heart. He was a horrible brother. “It was selfish … I was just so scared myself … I wasn’t thinking right.”

“I-I know.” The hot tears dripped on his bones, becoming cold within seconds. The bouts of sniffling against his ear was loud and uncomfortable, and the shaking were starting to calm. All this warmed Sans’ soul.

“Thanks, Paps.” For understanding. For putting up with him. For being so strong. For staying determined and motivated. _“For being here.”_

Sans had never once regretted taking in and raising Papyrus. He gave him joy, hope, and purpose. Despite the trials and tribulations, and responsibilities he wasn’t ready for being a child himself at the time, Papyrus was his everything—still is.

His most important person in the entire universe.

Realizing this made Sans really feel like a total ass for considering abandoning his brother. He hoped that, even with his disability, he could still be a good brother for Papyrus now.  
Papyrus didn’t say a word, but his soul was comforted. He was right to believe in his brother.

“T-Thank you too.” He swallowed to rid of the shakiness of his voice. He wanted to speak with firm clarity “For everything.”

He wouldn’t be where he was, or even _alive_ without Sans. Papyrus owed him a lot for sacrificing so much. He knew that he will never be able to repay Sans fully, but that was also why, when he was just babybones, he swore to make up for it his whole life.

It was also the day he met Undyne and told him about the Royal Guards.

Everything was all for Sans. Just as his brother did for him.

Papyrus asked for permission to maneuver themselves to a more comfortable position on the couch, but Sans shook his head. Instead, he suggested they should head off to bed. They both needed the deep rest from the emotional exhaustion.

Sans let out a yelp of surprise when Papyrus picked him up.

“Sorry, Sans.”

“It’s okay. Warn a guy next time, yeah?”

Papyrus’ soul soared at the smile. This was so much better.

The creak of each step echoed in the silence. Though they made a sound, the owner of the body felt light as a feather.

Papyrus entered his room with Sans in tow, and laid his brother down slowly on his bed.

“Paps?”

The tall skeleton hummed as he moved away to change into his nightwear. He wasn’t sleeping with his battle body when he knew the metal would be cold and hard for Sans.

“A-Am I in my room?”

“No.”

“O-Oh?”

Papyrus let out a sigh of exasperation when he was done, and padded over to the bed. Sans didn’t move since he placed him there. “Really brother. You can’t see. How could you expect me to just leave you on your own.” He flicked Sans’ head because he could. “From now on, we are sleeping together.” _Just like old times._

Sans pouted, rubbing the sore area. Though after hearing Papyrus’ words, leaving no room for argument, a large grin formed. “Heh. Just like old times, huh.”

Papyrus’ soul stuttered, eye lights widening a fraction before his expression softened. “Yes.”

Papyrus guided Sans to lie down, and wrapped him in his embrace. He wanted to tighten his hold, keep Sans close; so close that their souls could meld into each other.

Papyrus almost lost Sans today— _three times._ A harrowing experience he never want to relive ever again.

Sans could feel the erratic beating of Papyrus’ soul, under his palms. It was funny to him how he felt like he was reading his brother so easily, even though he couldn’t see. It was amazing and a little sad, to be honest.

Sans pressed himself against Papyrus’ chest, his calm beats contrasting against the other’s. “Go ahead.” _Hold me close. Never let me forget that you still want me. That you still need me even when I’m like this._ Because actions spoke just as loud and clear as words could.

Papyrus didn’t know how to feel with Sans like this. How his brother seemed to know his deepest wishes, and sudden urges. Though given the permission, Papyrus took his chance and did as he wish. His soul sighed with content; the tension leaving his bones, making his body feel like liquid.

Sans listened in once more with their bodies so close; happiness filtering in his soul when the beating eased up, matching his own rhythm.

Like this, the two of them finally fell into a dreamless sleep. And yet, they both adorned small smiles on their faces. Funny that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Quite the bonding eh? :D
> 
> Hooray for another update! ･:*+.\\(( °ω° ))/.:+
> 
> Longest chapter by far in the series now. XD


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